


My Son, The Prince

by Smcstrav



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Family, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2015-08-18
Packaged: 2018-04-15 09:49:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4602222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smcstrav/pseuds/Smcstrav
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Although he cannot admit it, Uther is proud of his son and also appreciates the positive influence that Merlin has had on the Prince.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Son, The Prince

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Ace Von S for her 2014 Wishlist on Heart of Camelot. She requested a 'good' Uther fic.  
> I've always loved how complex Uther is and so jumped all over the request. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy it.

Arthur raised his sword high in victory, turning in a slow circle to acknowledge the cheering and applause from the watching crowd.  


His opponent was still sitting on the ground, uninjured but shaking his head in some embarrassment at the ease with which his Prince had defeated him.  


Arthur noticed this, and after handing his sword off to his smiling manservant, he grasped the young knight’s hand, and helped him rise. “You have nothing to be ashamed of, Sir Richard” said the Prince. “You’ve done very well to reach the final. After all, this is only your second tournament since your knighting. I’ve no doubt whatsoever that one of these times it will be me sitting at your feet.”  


“Thank you, Sire,” said the young knight, grateful for the praise even in his defeat. “But I doubt I will ever be able to match you.”  


Arthur could only smile, his pride and position as Prince not quite letting him deny it. As he continued to acknowledge the crowd, he grasped the young man’s hand and raised it over their heads, allowing him to share the glory of having made the final, even though he had not won.  


Uther watched his son and could not stop the large smile of pride from lighting up his face. He kept the smile for many long moments, until he noticed his son start to turn towards him.  


The King let the smile be replaced by his usual stern countenance as Arthur made his way over to the Royal box, where the Prince would be officially recognized for winning the tournament.  


Once his son arrived and knelt before him, the King nodded and rose from his seat. He waited for the crowd to quiet and then said loudly enough for all to hear, “Congratulations, Prince Arthur. You have fought well, and so have come out victorious in this tournament. As such, your reward is a purse of five hundred gold pieces which shall be presented to you at this evening’s feast.”  


Raising Arthur to his feet, the King turned his son and said, “I give you Prince Arthur, the victor!”  


The crowd cheered and Arthur smiled and waved to them, while Uther stayed regally solemn, outwardly at least.  


Inwardly, his heart soared with pride and love for his son; the energetic and arrogant boy who had become the most skilled knight in the land, drawing the admiration and loyalty of all those who met him.  


The moment of the presentation was soon over, and Arthur excused himself from his father’s presence, gesturing to his servant while the Uther prepared to leave the stands. But rather than departing immediately, the King indulged himself by watching his son fondly for a little while, unknown by Arthur.  


Uther smiled again as he remembered a little blond boy enthusiastically playing with his wooden sword during many a tournament when he was far too young to compete. Arthur would stand in the Royal box beside his father, viciously stabbing the air to emulate the knights on the field. Uther never could manage to get him to simply sit and watch, and finally gave up trying. Or, more truthfully, Uther finally admitted that he enjoyed those chances to watch his son at play. There had been so few other opportunities for fun; academic studies along with training in knightly arts and diplomacy occupying most of Arthur’s days from a very tender age.  


The King had regrets about that, and had come to realize that he may have made some wrong decisions in bringing up his son.  


At least he’d rectified some of that when he’d taken on the young servant several months earlier, Uther thought to himself, stifling a very unkingly snicker as he watched the two together.  


Arthur laughed as he handed the dark-haired boy his helmet to go along with the sword he already held, followed by his gauntlets, and then piled his mail shirt and his cloak haphazardly on top. Naturally after staggering for no more than two steps, the servant dropped the whole pile, not that he would have been able to go much further with it anyway, since it had blocked his vision.  


The King continued to watch as the boy put his hands on his hips, berating the Prince, who continued to laugh even as he bent to pick his equipment up and place it more carefully.  


Uther didn’t know exactly what they were saying to each other, but he’d heard them together enough to guess. It may have surprised Arthur and would certainly have stunned the young servant, but the King was happy with their relationship, which could only be called ‘friendship’.  


Before he’d assigned the boy, the King had been looking for a confidante for Arthur. He’d just never expected that role to be filled by a servant and a peasant at that. It hadn’t escaped Uther’s notice that his son had become overly arrogant and a bully. This would not have been such a problem if his attitude had been reserved for the common class, but he’d been getting a reputation for it even among the nobility.  


A King could not inspire loyalty from his retainers unless they respected him, something that Arthur had not been on the right path to achieve. This would be dangerous if there were ever a challenge to the crown. Nobles that did not respect their King may turn coat at the first opportunity, or may even incite rebellion themselves.  


No, Arthur had needed someone to call him out on his attitude; to not let him get away with it, someone his own age. Uther had hoped to find such a man among the squires and young knights. Sir Leon had been his first choice, but unfortunately, Arthur still saw the blond knight more as a teacher than a friend, and had kept his distance from the man. The other young knights had only fed the Prince’s ego and made the situation worse.  


A couple of those same knights approached his son now, offering Arthur congratulations for his victory. The Prince accepted with a gracious and genuine smile, and then was very quick to come to his servant’s side when one of the knights purposefully jostled the boy, almost causing him to drop his burden again.  


Uther shook his head at the scene. Not very long since, the Prince would have reacted by laughing and giving the hapless servant a shove of his own rather than protecting him. Not now though, and many of Uther’s council, even Sir Geoffrey, had remarked on Arthur’s growing maturity, and on the respect he was gaining not only from the older knights, but also from the general population of Camelot.  


Uther had also seen firsthand the loyalty that Arthur inspired from his servant. Although he did not always have the best timing for it, the boy was willing to stand up for his Master, even risking his life to do so.  


As he watched the pair leave the field, Uther smiled. If his son could both inspire and show such loyalty to a single, lowly servant, then how much more would he give for his Kingdom if it were ever in danger? Yes, the future of Camelot was in good hands.


End file.
